


The Boy Who Lived

by accio_hogwarts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27809335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accio_hogwarts/pseuds/accio_hogwarts
Summary: This is an AU where Ginny, Ron, and Hermione died during the Battle of Hogwarts and Harry spends the last moments of his life contemplating how he lost so much.TW//depression and suicideThis entire story is about depression and death, so if those make you uncomfortable please don't read this.
Kudos: 4





	The Boy Who Lived

His feet had turned to ice. He’d been standing there, in that exact spot, for hours, struggling to suppress his emotions. He just couldn’t take it anymore. The pain was unending. Everything he owned just reminded him of them. His earthly possessions were nothing but a reminder of all he had lost.

He had given his invisibility cloak to Professor McGonagall because he couldn’t bear to look at it anymore. All he could see were the times when he would sneak around the castle with Ron and Hermione, breaking numerous rules without a care in the world. He saw the night when Hermione used the Time Turner to save Hagrid’s beloved pet and his uncle. That night, they went through so much to save Sirius, but it didn’t do any good. He ended up dead, just like the rest of them. 

He had disposed of the Marauder’s Map, too, burning it until it was nothing but a pile of black ash. When his eyes glazed over it after the Battle of Hogwarts, all of the memories came flooding back like a tidal wave. He remembered receiving it from Fred and George and sneaking into Hogsmeade, the mystery of Peter Pettigrew living in the castle, and breaking into the prefect’s bathroom to hear the melody of the merpeople. Hell, even the Marauders throwing insults at Snape that night in the corridor. 

They were all memories of death. They had no place among the living. 

But Harry never felt alive. He hadn’t felt the sting of cold air as he stepped into the winter wind. He hadn’t smelled the bliss of candles that Molly would sometimes light during dinner. He hadn’t seen the beauty of autumn leaves spiraling down from the naked oak trees. He couldn’t appreciate anything good that life had to offer–because there was nothing good remaining. It was all washed away with the war, the death, the sorrow. 

He remembered all the times he’d sit with George and cry. They would never talk, just sit and hope to be comforted by the sound of each other’s sobs. They were in this together. They had both lost everything. But it never helped. No matter how many nights they spent grieving in the moonlight, the pain never subsided. 

And now, looking at the headstones of his friends and family, he felt a tear slip down his cheek. He didn’t bother wiping it away. Nobody was there to see him cry, to share false promises that it will get better. Because he knew it wouldn’t. It could never get better. Because they were all gone. They’d left him to deal with the insatiable hole in his life and he didn’t know how to carry on. 

His lower lip began to quiver and his knees collapsed. He became a pool of grief on the cold snow. 

_ Just think what they’d say now,  _ he said to himself.  _ Harry potter, the boy who lived, offering himself to death.  _

It was quite pathetic. Everyone had spent years praising him for being brave and strong and resilient when he was a child. Now he was an adult, and he didn’t know how to be strong anymore. He didn’t have it in him. All of his strength was taken from him on the day they all died–Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Fred, Lupin, Tonks, and countless others. 

Consumed in his depression, he didn’t feel it when his fingers became so cold they turned a deep shade of purple. He didn’t feel it when his tears froze on their path down his cheek. He didn’t feel it when his heart slowed to an unsteady pace. All of the physical feelings were gone. He was left with the endless pain that had been growing inside his chest for months, and it was ready to explode.

He wanted to scream, yell, do anything to let the world know that the famous Harry Potter had met his demise–and it was caused by something that had been inside him this whole time. His heart. The part of him that kept him alive and breathing this whole time was the one to finally end everything. The most essential part of him was also the death of him. 

The last thought he allowed into his broken mind was,  _ I’ll get to see them. Everyone. My mother and father. I will see their smiles and I will smile back. Because I won’t be alone anymore.  _

A smile crept onto his pale face. 

And then he saw them. 


End file.
